Share With Me (Your Grief)
by Written Fire
Summary: The story of how George and Hermione dealt with their grief, and in each other found a love that saved them, igniting a happiness they never thought they would feel. Post-War fic.
1. Prologue

_I love this pairing and this idea; this is something I'm writing purely for me, which has not happened in a long time. I hope that you enjoy this prologue and that you stick around for their story._

_Enjoy.~_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters; nope, nope nope.

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Hermione remembered the first time she and George kissed. It hadn't been a romantic one, it had happened more out of a need for comfort. George was going through the loss of his best friend, his _twin_, and Hermione was dealing with the nightmares, and the realization that she and Ron were not really meant to be. It had been more for George's comfort then her own. The falling asleep together afterwards, however, helped them both equally.

It happened a month after the Final Battle. George had been holed up in his apartment, ignoring everyone, much to his mother's dismay. Hermione was visiting at the Burrow when Molly had shoved the casserole in her hands, asking her to take it to him in a shaky voice.

She hadn't really had a choice.

Looking back now, though, Hermione is grateful.

That simple request led her to George.

And being with George...well, being with him makes her the happiest she's ever been.

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_I started this pretty soon after my aunt passed as a way to distract myself; when the grief got to be too much, the writing stopped. I'm trying my hardest to deal with it and everything that has happened, so I'm hoping that finishing writing this will help the process._

_You probably didn't really want to know that, but I felt like I should share it because while I have two chapters done (and another almost there) there may be times when this gets to be hard to write. _

_I hope that this short prologue has you wanting more, and that you stick around for more. _

_Thank you for reading, and please, leave a review._

_-Written Fire._


	2. Chapter One

_Here is Chapter One! I actually rather like what I have so far, and I hope that you do as well. Sorry about the long wait for this, I actually meant to get this out to you sooner than I did. My bad._

_Thanks for the favorites, follows, and the review. Hope that you enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs solely to a wonderful woman who is not me.**

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_"Where did you get this?!" Bellatrix cried, the tip of her wand pressed hard against Hermione's throat._

_"I don't know!" Hermione whimpered, trying to move back and crying out when Bellatrix grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. _

_"Don't lie to me, Mudblood! Where did you get it?!" Bellatrix screamed, pushing her wand harder against her throat._

_"I don't know!" Hermione shrieked at her in a tear chocked voice._

_"You're lying!" Bellatrix screamed, shoving Hermione so hard she fell to the ground._

_"I'm not, I don't know!" Hermione cried, shuffling back. _

_"Filthy, lying little Mudblood! You will tell the truth!" Bellatrix hissed, advancing on Hermione. With a mad glint in her eyes, Bellatrix raised her wand and shouted a word Hermione will never forget. "CRUCIO!"_

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"Ahh!" Hermione screamed, bolting upright in bed, her heart pounding. Gasping in a breath Hermione closed her eyes, wrenching them back open just moments later before she tumbled off the bed, running to the toilet and emptying her stomach of last night's dinner. Flushing, she rose on shaky legs and turned to the sink, splashing water on her face. Grabbing the towel she then dried it off, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She was pale, bags forming under her eyes from getting no sleep. Her hair was a bushy, tangled mess, dirty from being deprived of a wash the past few days Hermione had locked herself up in her apartment. Sighing, Hermione grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, brushing her teeth before jumping into the shower. After a good long scrub, she got out, wrapping her towel around herself. Walking to the kitchen Hermione made herself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would keep her up for the rest of the day.

It was a long shot, but worth a try; sometimes, it worked.

It had been a month since the Final Battle. The end of the war brought about so many conflicting emotions in everyone; on one hand there was happiness that the war was over, while on the other there was a great deal of sadness. The past month had passed full of funerals, and Hermione had been to every single one. It was her duty as a part of the Golden Trio to attend, whether she knew them or not. It was depressing, and took a lot out of them all. Luckily enough, the last one that they were scheduled to attend had been two days ago.

Hermione hadn't left her apartment since.

She was in the middle of making her coffee when the owl arrived. Startled, Hermione opened the kitchen window, a small smile gracing her lips for a split second when she recognized the owl. It was Errol, the Weasley family owl, come bearing a letter from Molly. Sighing, she grabbed the exhausted owl a handful of treats, setting them down in front of him before opening her summons.

And a summons it was; Molly was demanding that she come over for breakfast in no less than seven minutes. Placing the letter down, Hermione walked to her room, stroking Errol's feathers along the way. Tossing her towel in the dirty hamper, she dressed, running her brush through her hair until all the tangles were gone. Doing a quick braid she slipped on her shoes, sliding her wand into her pocket. Glancing towards the clock and seeing she had one minute left she rushed towards the kitchen, gently picking up Errol with the intent of letting him out the window. Hearing the feeble hoot he gave, however, changed her mind. Holding him in one hand she closed her window, keeping a firm grip on him as she apparated.

She appeared in the front yard, the noise scaring the chickens away. Shaking her head at their fleeing Hermione walked the short distance to the front door, letting herself in.

"Mrs. Weasley, you need to get a new bird." Hermione said as way of greeting, setting Errol down on the window sill and watching as he just laid there, the slight shifting of his wings the only sign that he was still alive. Hermione walked to Molly, allowing herself to be engulfed in a hug.

"It's Molly, dear, and I know. We will one day." she pulled back and looked at her with frown. "Too skinny..." she muttered under her breath, pushing Hermione into a chair by Harry at the kitchen table. A plate appeared in front of her a second later.

"Morning 'Mione." Harry yawned next to her, sending her a sleepy smile.

"G'Morning Harry." she yawned halfway through his name, making him laugh. "Those things are contagious." she had him laughing again.

"Sorry. Did she get you up early too?" Harry asked, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

"No, I was up already." The concern in his eyes caused a soft smile to appear on her lips. She knew he was probably having problems of his own, and yet he still worried about her.

She loved that about her best friend.

"What's the matter?" he asked in concern, turning in his chair to face her.

"I just haven't been able to sleep." she told him softly. Harry's look turned into one of understanding.

"Nightmares?" he asked voice just as quiet as hers had been. Hermione nodded. He sighed and grabbed hold of her hand, holding it under the table. "You know you can come to me if you can't sleep."

"I don't want to disturb you...you're probably having as much trouble sleeping as I am. I won't chance going over and possibly waking you up." he sighed and shook his head at her, but let the matter drop. Hermione could be stubborn and he knew that if he tried to convince her otherwise, it would just result in an unneeded argument.

They held hands for the rest of breakfast, giving each other that silent comfort. Breakfast was still a subdued affair; Mrs. Weasley made more than she needed to more often than not.

Since the end of the war all of her brood would eat a meal here. It would not always be the same one, and often Molly will send an owl, like she did to Hermione that morning. It always succeeds in getting her children there. All except for one.

George.

So far, Molly had no luck in getting him to come home. After weeks of getting no response from him, she eventually gave up trying. Now she just sent him meals, hoping with all she had that he actually ate them. She never sent anyone with them, not knowing if the company would be wanted or not. Glancing around the table, she wondered if she should try it that night. She did not know how he would react, but it was worth a try. The only question was who.

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The rest of the day passed quickly for Hermione. She ended up staying after breakfast with Harry and Ron, the three passing the time by in the comfort of the Weasley backyard. They spent the whole of the day just lying in the grass, alternating between silence and talking. It was slightly awkward for Hermione. During the Final Battle she and Ron had kissed. It had felt good at the time, but after further reflection—and another kiss—they had come to the conclusion that they really did not feel for one another as they had thought. She loved Ron, but it was like the way she loved Harry. It was hard coming to grips with that fact; they, like everyone else, figured that they would end up together in the end. Finding out differently was just yet another thing that had changed in their lives.

When dinner was announced, they sat in the same manner as they had earlier, the only difference being that this time Ron sat next to Hermione. Dinner was louder than normal that day, and Hermione found herself with a smile on her face throughout it all. It was after dinner, as everyone was heading home, that Molly made her request.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Molly?" she asked, turning around to face her, hands quickly latching onto the pan that was unexpectedly shoved into her hands.

"Could you..." she stopped, taking a deep breath. It did not help, though, as her voice was still shaky with emotion when she continued. "Could you take this to George? Please?" Biting her lip, Hermione looked from Molly's face, down to the casserole in her hands, debating on whether she could say no or not. "I know he has not been eating well…I'm worried." she added, seeing the indecision on her face.

"Molly…I…" she started, trailing off at the look in the older woman's eyes. The grief that she usually hid so well was sitting in plain view on the surface. Seeing that, mixed with the concern over her son, had Hermione caving. "Ok." she said, watching Molly's body relax slightly in relief.

"Thank you, dear. Try and get him to eat it, ok?" she pleaded.

"I'll do my best." she told her, sending her a small smile before turning and walking out the door Harry was holding open for her. Inhaling a deep breath, Hermione let it out on a sigh.

"She's sending you away with food?" Harry asked her in amusement, closing the door behind them.

"A whole pan, too." Ron added, looking down at the food in Hermione's hands with interest.

"It's not for me." Hermione told them in slight exasperation.

"Then for who?" Ginny asked, linking hands with Harry as they made their way to the apparation point at the end of the yard. Ginny and Harry weren't officially together yet, but everyone knew that it was only a matter of time.

"George." she answered, feeling all three gazes latch onto her. "She caught me on the way out and asked me to bring it to him, and to make sure he eats it." she frowned. "I'm not sure how to do that, though." she admitted to them, looking up at his siblings for help. They looked at a loss, though, on just how to answer her.

"Normally I'd be able to tell you how, but…" Ginny trailed off, knowing it did not have to be explained. Ever since Fred had died, George had just been a pale imitation of himself. No one really knew how to handle him; and honestly, no one had really tried. It was hard to deal with another's grief when you were trying to get through your own.

Hermione sighed. "I guess I'll just have to wing it then." She decided stopping and turning to look at her friends.

"Good luck." Ron said, kissing her cheek before saying his goodbyes to Harry and Ginny, leaving their sight a second later with a loud crack. Ginny hugged the best she could, considering she was holding a pan of food.

"Do your best, ok?" she said, kissing her cheek also. Hermione just smiled slightly in response.

"If anything, at least eat something yourself." Harry told her, chuckling when she frowned. He kissed her cheek too, ruffling her hair.

"See you tomorrow." She told them, apparating away.

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_Yeah, it'll be this sad tone for a while, but no worries, there will be a happy ending!_

_Leave a review?_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-Written Fire_


	3. Chapter Two

_Here we are with chapter two! This is the longest chapter I've written in...anything, actually. Chapter three looks like it will be following in it's footsteps, so, fingers crossed for that!_

_Hope that you enjoy~._

**Disclaimer: I still do not own.**

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The sight to greet Hermione's eyes always came as a shock to her senses. One would think that after two years of seeing it she would be used to it; she doubted, though, that anyone ever could. During the war, it was the one bright spot in Diagon Alley. Since the end of the war, as stores had slowly started to come back as they were, it was still the brightest thing there. Looking at it, though, one could say that the store seemed dim since Fred's death.

Hermione knew that couldn't possibly be true, but that was how it felt. Ignoring the closed sign she gripped the food close in one hand, using the other to open the door. Holding the pan with both hands again, she used her foot to close the door, walking through the aisles to get to the room in the back that led up to the apartment. Finding the door closed she repeated the process, slowly making her way up the stairs in the dark.

"George?" she called, after getting no answer to her knock. "George, its Hermione." she stood in the silence of the hall for a few minutes more before raising her hand again to knock. "Geor—" she cut off with a gasp, looking at George's face in shock. "I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, wincing when he glared in response, a hand rubbing his forehead.

"Bad timing, right?" George asked, wincing as he coughed. It was obvious that he had not talked to anyone in a while, leading Hermione to guess that he hid himself off in his office.

"Right." she answered, feeling bad; it, unfortunately, so happened that when she went to knock George had answered the door, causing Hermione to rap her knuckles against his head instead of the wood. George glanced at her expression and sighed, shaking his head.

"It's alright." he muttered, turning around and heading to what she thought might be the kitchen. Assuming this to be an invitation to come in, Hermione did so, looking around the apartment as she followed George.

_The apartment is definitely the twins._ she thought, inwardly wincing at her slip. The statement, though, was truth. With the bright colored walls and the funky patterned floor, the apartment looked much like she had imagined it would.

Hearing a muttered curse come from the kitchen, she hurried up, arriving in time to see George put a bloody finger under the sink nozzle, another curse escaping his lips as the water hit the cut full blast. He turned it down low, watching as it washed the blood away.

"George? What did you do?" she asked, setting the casserole down on the counter and rushing towards him, grabbing his wrist and pulling it towards herself, looking at the cut that was already bleeding over again. Tsking, she set it under the water again, turning it down even more and grabbing her wand with her free hand. Summoning a towel she wrapped it around his finger, pressing tightly as she lifted it above her head.

"Accio Band-Aid." she frowned, quickly putting her wand in her pocket so she could catch it. Using her teeth she opened it, bringing his hand down and removing the towel from over the hurt. She put the Band-Aid on before it could start to bleed again, putting it on tight so that it would not fall off.

"There. What did you do?" she questioned again, glancing up at his face for the first time since she entered the kitchen. George stared unblinkingly at her for a few minutes before answering.

"I think I broke a cup." he replied.

"You think? What do you mean you 'think'?" she asked in confusion, head tilted to the side slightly in question.

"I reached in the cupboard-" he stopped to clear his throat. "For a cup, and my hand came away bloody." he explained. Hermione frowned, looking around the kitchen for the cupboard.

"That one?" she pointed to the slightly open one next to the sink. At his nod she walked to it, standing on tip toe to glance at its contents. Her frown became more prominent as she noticed that only two cups were left standing among the shattered dishware. "Oh George." she sighed, whipping out her wand. "Repairo." she muttered, watching as the broken pieces flew back together, leaving a full cupboard. With a bad feeling settling in her stomach, Hermione looked through the other cupboards, her suspicions getting confirmed. Going around the room she repaired all the broken pieces of kitchen ware she came across, unknowingly dragging George along with her due to her hold on his wrist.

Closing the last cupboard she stepped back with a satisfied smile, turning to find George standing right behind her. "Oh!" she gasped, a hand flying to her chest. "You scared me, George. What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. George raised a brow at her, looking from her face down to his wrist, and back again. "Oh! Sorry!" she let go, only to grab hold of it again. "That's right, I came for a reason." she went to the living room, stopping in front of the couch and shoving him onto it. "Sit; I'll be right back." she told him sternly, some of her bossier attitude coming through.

George watched bemusedly as she went back to the kitchen, leaving him on the couch. Listening to the clutter coming from the room he looked down at his finger, turning his hand around to look at the Band-Aid from all angles. Wondering what she was doing there and deciding he might as well get comfortable, he scooted back in the seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Since the incident happened, George had not been getting a lot of sleep. He tried, but most nights he would wake up from a nightmare and not be able to get back to sleep. Some nights, he could not even get to sleep in the first place.

"George?" he opened his eyes to see Hermione standing in front of him, holding a tray of food in her hands. Focusing on the mouthwatering aroma of it instead of the concern in her eyes, he sat up straight.

"What's that?" he asked, taking it from her and setting it on his lap.

"Casserole. Your mother sent it. And, a glass of water." she answered wringing her hands together nervously. "I don't know what kind, though. I just…accepted it." she added. George kept his attention on the food, but he felt the couch sink as she sat next to him. "I hope you're hungry, because she sent the whole pan."

George looked up at her, noticing for the first time how thin her face had become. Glancing down he saw that the same was truth elsewhere. "Eat it with me."

Hermione blinked at him, then shook her head slightly. "I'm not hungry." she quietly stated.

"Yeah, well, neither am I. Eat it with me, or I won't eat it." he coughed, sipping the water to soothe his parched throat.

Hermione stared at him, and then sighed. "Alright." she was almost past the couch when she was pulled to a stop.

"Share mine." George told her, pulling on her wrist to get her back to her seat. He made sure she was seated before letting go, moving the tray so it was half on her lap, and half on his.

They spent the next half hour sitting and eating in silence. Between the two of them they finished it quickly; Hermione had even gotten them seconds.

Hermione laid the fork down on the plate, having eaten the last bite. Closing her eyes she leaned back in the seat, resting her head on the top of the couch. She sighed, feeling drowsy. That happened a lot after she ate one of Molly's meals; not always, but it had happened on more than one occasion. Turning her head slightly, she opened her eyes just enough to see George out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting in the same stance as her, but his open eyes gazed at the ceiling. She wondered just how much sleep he got. Judging by the size of the bags under his eyes, she would wager not enough.

"You're not eating." George stated, still staring at the ceiling. The hint of accusation she could hear in his voice had her frowning.

"You're not sleeping." George turned his head and looked at her now open brown eyes. He had the passing thought that they were rather pretty before his brain processed what she said, and he found himself frowning along with her.

"And?" he asked.

"I don't know. You said something first." she felt like a child with that comeback, and it must have showed for George snorted a moment later, startling her. Hermione looked at him wide eyed. He rolled his own, reaching a hand up and tweaking her nose.

"Get it." he told her, setting his hand down back onto the tray. As if finally realizing he still had it he suddenly stood, holding it in his hands as he went to dump it in the sink. Hermione watched him walk away until she couldn't anymore. She looked around the room again, eyes stopping on a picture of Fred and George. She stood and walked towards it, picking it up to get a better look.

They had their arms around each other and were laughing, big grins on their faces as they looked at the camera. She figured they must have been pulled out of the shop for this picture, since both were still in their work robes. They both looked so happy.

"That was opening day. Lee took it right before we started letting people in." she heard George's quiet voice say from behind her. Whirling around to face him she found him to be blurry. Realizing with a start that she was crying, Hermione tightened her hold on the picture.

"You both look so happy." her voice shook as she tried to suppress the tears, blinking in an attempt to see him clearly again.

"We were." he stated simply, gently taking the picture from her hands. He looked at it for a few seconds before he placed it back in its spot. "I think it was one of the best days of my life. I can still hear him laughing sometimes. It sounds so real that I think for a moment, just a split second, that he's still here, that he didn't…" he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "But when I turn to my side and look, he's never there."

Hermione was freely crying now, the tears running down her face. Not knowing if it would be appreciated or not, but frankly, not really caring, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she cried into his chest. George stumbled back slightly, looking down at the witch that had just attacked him. All he could see was her bushy hair, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold it back. He could tell it was a losing battle though due to the fact that his shirt was slowly getting wetter and wetter. He wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, holding her close as he allowed his own tears to fall.

A while later, once her tears had subsided Hermione lifted her head up, using a hand to wipe her tears away before chancing a look up at him. "Sorry…" she mumbled, reaching up and with the same hand wiping his tears away too.

"It's alright." he leaned in unconsciously to her palm as she did so, eyes closing as she lightly stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I'm sure you did not need me crying all over you." she told him, watching as his face slowly started to relax.

"If you need to let it out, then let it out." he told her firmly, his arms tightening around her as her other hand started to run through his hair, making him feel slightly drowsy. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, ok?" he told her quietly, opening his eyes to see her confused face. Before she could start asking questions he leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips. It was a short, sweet kiss, and was over before Hermione really had a chance to process what was happening. He buried his head into her curls, sighing. "'Mione?"

"Yes, George?" she asked, confused as to what he would do now.

"Could you…could you stay over tonight?" he asked quietly, his body tensing as he waited for her answer.

Hermione felt him tense, and bit her lip. She figured that question went with the 'don't take this the wrong way' advice, and that he asked out of a need of comfort. "Of course." she felt him relax in her arms, squeezing her before letting go. He grabbed her hand and led her to his room. Hermione stood in the doorway and watched as he continued on to his wardrobe, riffling through a couple drawers before he found what he wanted. With a slight blush he handed her some clothes, pointing over her shoulder to the bathroom down the hall.

"Something to sleep in." he explained unnecessarily, turning her and gently nudging her in that direction. She took the hint and went to the small room, locking the door behind her. Staring down at the clothes in her hand she noticed that it was a rather worn looking shirt and an old pair of boxers. She realized why he had blushed and decided to ignore the fact to make it less awkward then it had to be. She changed quickly and picked up her clothes on the way out, walking back to George's room.

George was already changed by the time she got back, wearing nothing but his boxers. She barely had the time to notice the good Quidditch had done to his body before he was in front of her, taking the clothes from her hands and setting them on his dresser. He grabbed her hand again, this time leading her to his bed. He got in first, holding the covers up on his bed for her to get in. She laid down beside him, facing him as he brought the covers down. He looked at her once they were both covered, reaching his hand out and grabbing hold of her hand again for the third time that night. Linking their fingers he scooted forward, kissing Hermione, if possible, even more softly then before.

"Thank you." he whispered, closing his eyes.

"You're welcome." she whispered back, watching as his features slowly softened. She figured this was probably the fastest he had fallen asleep in weeks. She watched his face for a while before the warmth of his hand and the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled her into a dreamless sleep.

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_These are all unbeta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes you may find. _

_So, good? No? Let me know! _

_Please leave a review? Until next time!_

_-Written Fire_


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